


Metallic Finish

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, First Time, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-05-29
Updated: 2007-05-29
Packaged: 2018-09-03 05:32:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8699020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Catch a clue. Sam. In the parking lot. With the Impala.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

**Metallic Finish**  
_By: Lexalot_  
  
Summary: Catch a clue. Sam. In the parking lot. With the Impala.  
  
Rating: NC-17  
  
Disclaimer: They’re not mine. But don’t tell me that, because I hate to hear it.  
  
Pairing: Dean/Sam  
  
Spoilers: Hook Man, Route 666, Shadow, Provenance, The Devil’s Trap  
  
Warning: Incest!  
  
Notes: Written for the Sam Slut-a-thon, Prompt #6: Public  
  
***  
  
“You oughta live a little.” The dull clink and thud of an empty bottle being put down on the wobbly wooden table. “What you really need is to get laid.”  
  
If Sam didn’t know better, he’d say it was the beer talking, not Dean. But Sam knew better.  
  
“I’ll pay.”  
  
That made sense because Dean was the one with three beer bottles in front of him.  
  
“You’re driving.”  
  
That made sense because Sam was the one sober enough to get behind the wheel.  
  
“Let’s blow this joint. This place is a dive. Not a single chick worth checking out. It’s a cryin’ shame ‘cause I’m horny as hell.”  
  
That made sense because Dean was… well… Dean.  
  
The bar had just been there. On the way to a motel that they had seen a billboard for about 10 miles back. Stopped in to ask some questions about the area. Ended up sitting at a dirty table in a dingy corner as Dean downed a few and Sam listened to his big brother talk the big bro talk. Everything from music to sex. Which was pretty much Dean’s entire scope of wisdom outside of hunting. And Sam wouldn’t call what Dean knew about sex ‘wise.’ He’d say it was more like self-indulgent experience.  
  
He didn’t know why Dean thought he needed a few drinks tonight. Or why Dean thought he needed to do the frustrating big brother lecture routine tonight. All it had been lacking was…  
  
“You know what your problem is, Sammy?”  
  
Yeah, that.  
  
Sam bit back the temptation to say ‘You?’ and instead went with, “No, but I have a feeling you’re going to tell me.”  
  
“What? You don’t wanna know?” Dean laid down cash from his last pool hustle to pay the tab. “Fine. You don’t want me to tell you, then I won’t.”  
  
Bullshit. Dean would be a pain in the ass all night if Sam didn’t indulge him. It was all Dean ever wanted. To be indulged. “Oh, I’d love to know. Tell me, Dean. What exactly is my problem?”  
  
Sam couldn’t hide his annoyance. Dean knew he was being patronized.  
  
“If you’re gonna be an asshole, I’m not gonna tell ya.” Dean kicked the squeaky wooden door open and walked outside.  
  
Sam followed, closing up his jacket as he stepped out into the chilled night air. “Oh no, you started. What do you think my problem is? Is it that I need to get laid? Because if it is, you already covered this.”  
  
“Well, that’s a part of the problem. But it’s not the cause.”  
  
“Oh, really? You’re an expert now?” The funny thing about condescension is that it really doesn’t know any limits or hypocrisy. “Well, lay it on me, Dr. Phil.”  
  
Dean stopped in the middle of the half-empty parking lot and turned to face his little brother. “Oh, that’s funny, Sam. ‘Specially coming from you. We playing the pot and the kettle now? Who gets to be what? ‘Cause I kinda wanna be the pot.”  
  
“Are you going to tell me or just keep on being a jerk?”  
  
“I’m gonna go with ‘Be a Jerk’ for $500, Alex.”  
  
Sam didn’t even have time to roll his eyes before Dean turned around and headed for the car. And he didn’t have time to take a full step forward before Dean turned back around to start again.  
  
“Why are you always bustin’ on me?”  
  
And that made no sense any way Sam sliced it. “What?”  
  
“If I don’t talk to you, then I’m not letting you in. If I try talking to you, then I’m being a jerk. I can’t win with you, Sam.”  
  
“Win? This isn’t a battle, Dean.”  
  
“With you, it is!” Dean kicked at the ground emphatically with his boot, sending gravel across the dirt lot. “Why are you always so damn difficult?”  
  
“Why are you…?” The question ended on Sam’s lips as something occurred to him. The answer seemed to come so easily all of a sudden. Sam knew why he was being difficult with Dean, but of course, the problem being what he knew it was, he’d never admit why. And as odd as it was that it seemed to be true, and as odd as it was that Sam had never noticed it before, Dean being difficult with Sam was following a strikingly similar pattern.  
  
They were brothers. They were giving each other a hard time for the exact same reason.  
  
Now, that made the most sense of anything all night.  
  
A couple came out of the bar, walking at a casual pace to their car. Sam and Dean just stood idle, waiting for the passers-by to vanish so they could forget once again that they were having this argument in a public place. The man and woman got in their car, and Dean watched as they pulled out onto the paved road.  
  
It was just the two of them again. And Sam was staring at his brother.  
  
“What?”  
  
Calm swept over him. “Why didn’t you stay with Cassie?”  
  
“Okay, where the fuck did that come from? What are you talking about Sam?”  
  
“You loved her, but I asked if you ever thought of giving the life up to settle down… Why wouldn’t you want that?”  
  
“Not everyone’s like you, Sam, waiting for the right moment to propose or something, alright. Hell, you’re not exactly feeling those commitment vibes anymore yourself. I asked if you wanted to stay for that Reverend’s daughter and you didn’t want to. And then, why didn’t you stay with Sarah for that matter?”  
  
“Because I wanted to stay with you.” A cold shot of adrenaline raced through Sam’s veins having made that admission. “Satisfied?”  
  
“What the fuck are you talking about? When we were in Chicago, you made it pretty damn clear that you intended to take off as soon as this business with the demon was finished. Remember? ‘Cause I remember that pretty well. You’ve never wanted to stay with me.”  
  
“I never wanted to want to stay with you.”  
  
“Oh, that makes a whole lot of sense, Sam.”  
  
“Yeah, it does, Dean.” Sam sounded absolutely convinced of this. “You’re my problem.”  
  
Words never say what they mean.  
  
Neither could Sam and Dean.  
  
The only sound was the buzz of dim electric lighting on either side of them. Pink and blue neon lights from the bar’s windows and a yellowish glow from the big wooden sign at the entrance to the parking lot.  
  
A car drove by. Headlights blinding on an otherwise dark, empty road.  
  
It was a convenient out for Dean. “C’mon. Hotel’s a few more miles from here. We’re getting in the car, and we’re going.” He turned his back to his brother and continued toward the car.  
  
Sam blinked; he was hanging on the cusp of somewhere that Dean was leaving him out to dry.  
  
It made even more sense now. If Dean had said anything at all, Sam would have known it wasn’t true. But he didn’t. And he wasn’t just walking away, he was running. It only gave Sam his answer.  
  
Rushing to catch up, Sam hurried to Dean’s side as he unlocked the passenger’s door.  
  
“What are you doing, Sam? You’re still driving.”  
  
“You know, you’re right.”  
  
Dean sighed, pointedly not looking at him. “About what?”  
  
“I do need to get laid.” Sam grabbed Dean by the hips and pushed him up against the side of the Impala.  
  
“What the hell are you doing?”  
  
“Living a little.” Sam’s fingers worked swiftly at unbuckling Dean’s belt and getting his fly open.  
  
“Sam…?”  
  
As Sam pulled Dean’s jeans down past his hips, any question melted away with any sensibility Dean had.  
  
Dean’s eyes had time to skim the parking lot for possible spectators, and Sam took a quick look around too.  
  
No one was sitting in any cars as far as they could tell, but the bar was lively enough inside because it was the only watering hole in this town despite being a total a shithole. The windows were a little clouded with condensation because of the cool night air and the poor ventilation that made the place a stuffy shithole. Still, it didn’t seem like anyone could see them. And no one was coming out of the bar. No cars pulling into the lot. They didn’t have all the time in the world, but the look in Sam’s eyes told Dean they didn’t need much.  
  
Before Dean could say a single word, offer any sign of bewildered consent, Sam turned him around and bent him over the hood.  
  
Dean felt the cold sting of the painted metal against his bare, hardened cock. And he heard Sam unzip and spit into his hand. Dean was trapped between Sam and musclecar steel, and when Sam spread Dean’s cheeks and shoved inside, Dean smacked his hand against the sleek hood and cried out so loud that his yell echoed back from the trees across the street. Dean’s mouth hung open, and he repressed every urge to cry out like that again. Muffled every scream behind clenched teeth.  
  
Sam knew Dean would tell him if it was too much. He didn’t stop and he didn’t ease up. He just pumped his hips, fucking Dean as deep and as hard as he could, as carefree and reckless as he needed to be. Sam could see Dean’s face in the reflection on the hood. Dean always kept his baby to a high quality shine, and Sam never fully appreciated it until now. Dean’s eyes kept squeezing tightly shut and his jaw dropping and then clenching again, the only noises coming out being muted against the metallic luster.  
  
Dean looked like he was dying. Like this was killing him. And yet he laid there. Passive. Every now and then pushing back into a thrust when he had a half inch of room to move. Everything was like this with them. Jagged, rough on the outside while bleeding on the inside. Double-edged blade covered in a smooth metallic finish. Hurting cut by cut. Until one catches a clue.  
  
Sam started riding him harder, faster. The runaway wave was coming to its crest. He reached under the warm body he had pinned to the car and wrapped his hand around Dean’s cock, jerking against the friction of the polished metal. Sam was sure there was the slight stain of blood on his cock, and he felt his knuckles ripping open against the surface of the car. Everything was like this with them. And just like everything else, this would all be worth it in the end.  
  
This time Dean couldn’t stop the loud groan that Sam ripped from deep inside as he fucked Dean with the conviction only climax could bring. And quickly, Dean’s breaths became heavy and underlined by moans as he came on the hood of the car. As Sam rammed him against the side of the car one last time, Dean cried out once more. And he was sure someone living nearby must have heard it.  
  
Bright headlights came around the bend and a car approached on the road so slowly that it seemed it might turn into the lot. Sam leaned down, covering his brother, and he watched the car with the high beams go by, passing the entrance for the bar, and continuing on its way.  
  
When Sam lifted himself up, he saw Dean lying against the hood with his eyes closed. A smile sprawled across his lips. For a second, he looked as if he was asleep, waking up from the best dream he’d ever had. Sam couldn’t stop himself from staring again.  
  
“I oughta give you a hard time more often.” Dean’s words were hoarse and hushed, spoken through a mischievous smirk.  
  
Sam simply stroked his brother’s hair and kissed his temple.  
  
Dean didn’t seem to want to move. He laid there limp and exhausted. Spent and had. And happier for it. “Dude, I am so your bitch right now.”  
  
If Sam didn’t know any better, he’d say that was the beer talking, not Dean. But Sam knew better. It had to be the sex.  
  
A loud creak jolted Sam and when he looked up he saw the bar door swing open.  
  
“Shit!” Sam grabbed Dean and pulled him down to the ground, leaning them both up against the tire, and he rushed to zip back up.  
  
After wriggling in his jeans until they were at his waist and all fastened again, Dean leaned his head back against the steel, his eyes just a little wider for the excitement, and his satisfied grin turned into a quiet little laugh.  
  
Sam playfully glared at him. “Shut up!” Sam peeked over the hood to see a guy headed to his pickup truck. Sam heard Dean laugh a bit more, and the man paused and glanced around. Sam fell back to sitting on the dirt fast. “You’re drawing attention. You’re gonna get us...”  
  
Dean grabbed the collar of Sam’s jacket and pulled him into a kiss. It was soft and sweet and sensual. Everything they never were. Dean broke the kiss and licked his lips.  
  
They stared at one another. Half gaze, half gawk. Nervousness and uncertainty crept in for the passing moment. Guilt and misery. A vague awkwardness that was ultimately coated with acceptance.  
  
An old engine roared to life and the sound of wheels crunching over gravel went past them on the other side of the car.  
  
When Sam lifted his head this time, there was no sign of anyone, and as he rose to his feet, Dean stood with him.  
  
And there it was. White and sticky. Tiny pools of come drying on the metallic black finish.  
  
“You got come on my car!”  
  
Sam’s jaw dropped. “Are you serious?”  
  
Dean was totally serious. “That better not hurt my paintjob!”  
  
And as mind-boggling as it was, that made sense, because this was Dean after all.  
  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
 


End file.
